Happy Ending
by shipperfey
Summary: The team tackles a new case, a new crack!plot, and a new fanfic.


**Title: Happy Ending**  
**Author: **Alice J. Foster (shipperfey)

**Summary: **The team tackles a new case, a new crack!plot, and a new fanfic.  
**Spoilers: **Wilson's Heart, if you squint really hard.  
**Category/Warnings: **humor, crack!fic, meta-ish  
**Pairing/Characters: **House/Cameron, with hints of other pairings…  
**Rating: **PG-13

**Author's Note: **I hope everyone is as entertained reading this as I was writing it. This is meant to poke fun at _everyone_, including myself. Hopefully no one will take offense to it.

"Why are we here? We're supposed to be on hiatus," Foreman reminded House as he entered the dark, non-descript room, followed by a legion of his colleagues, former and current.

"The _show_ is on hiatus, fan fiction is not," House explained, holding up a folder.

"Oh dear god," Chase whined as he took a seat.

"Do we have to?" Taub asked, rubbing his forehead. The world of fanfic hadn't been good to him so far. "I never get laid, I never get good lines," he continued to complain.

"It's in your contracts, you have to do it," Cuddy clarified as she entered the room with Wilson.

"Do I get a good storyline this time?" Thirteen inquired expectantly. "The only good ones seem to be about me dying," she pointed out. "I wouldn't mind a nice affair, maybe with Wilson?"

The others in the room, still traumatized from the season four finale shook their heads, "Too soon, too soon," they mumbled.

"I'll have an affair with you," Kutner offered, and was promptly ignored.

Thirteen pouted. "Maybe I can get my super sekrit name, that hasn't really been a secret since before the writers' strike?"

"Sorry to disappoint," House lied, "but this one is an original Duckling story, so the three of you are free to go. Stick around though; we might need you for the epilogue."

Thirteen, Taub and Kutner left.

"Can we hurry this up, House? We have stuff to do," Cameron pointed out angrily.

"It's a season two story, so lose the attitude, Blondie… actually, lose the hair too," he ordered.

Cameron's hair was magically combed, curled and dyed a gorgeous shade of brown; she sighed with relief. "Nice."

Everyone else nodded in agreement.

"Please tell me it's not slash? I still haven't recovered from that last one," Wilson reminded them. "I mean, a cane?! For god's sake, I would rather marry a Mary Sue than go through that again."

"Let's not suggest anything drastic yet," Cuddy tried to calm Wilson down. "Wait, is it femslash?" she asked, eying Cameron.

Cameron's eyes widened as the two women waited for House to reply, but he'd begun daydreaming.

"House!" Foreman shouted, startling House.

"No, not femslash," House replied sadly.

"Then what is it?" Chase asked impatiently.

"Shhh!" House hissed as he moved under a desk and hid. "Hide!" he instructed the others.

There were screeching noises, off to the side, followed by gurgling sounds that were a cross between the monster from Lost and Chewbacca. Last but not least, a child cried in the distance before the commotion died down.

"What was that?!" Cameron wondered out loud, terrified and clinging to a wall.

"Katie Jacobs' muse," House explained.

"Doesn't she know we're on hiatus?" Cuddy asked, "Please don't make me go on that pole again, I'm begging!"

"It's okay, Cuddy," Cameron added with a soothing voice, "And if it means anything, I thought you looked really nice on that pole."

"Hey, I said this _wasn't _a femslash," House chided them, before the whole scene got derailed again.

"Is it a Huddy fic?" Cuddy inquired. "Because I love those, but I have to say, I am really behind on work. I have a hospital to run, but all they want me to do is take care of House and bear his offspring. I can't remember the last time I had a pedicure! And I _really _hate it when he calls me Cuddles in those things."

Cameron and Wilson nodded in understanding.

"For a guy who is satisfied with just hookers, you are very high maintenance," Foreman pointed out.

House shrugged. "Well… not a Huddy story," he announced, flipping through the folder.

"Crap, does this mean I have to act irrationally bitchy so the author can get some bashing in?" Cuddy asked, concerned.

"Nope, not this time," House reassured her. "Looks like we banter a little, then you go off to run a hospital."

Cuddy sighed with relief. "That's refreshing."

"Now go let those sweater puppies breathe," House added, pointing to her chest.

Cuddy rolled her eyes as she exited.

"Just tell us what we need to do, House," Chase suggested. "This is obviously a House/Cameron story, so I would like to know beforehand what my role is," he pointed out.

House squinted at the Australian. "How do you know it's not Chase/Cameron?"

"Would you be dragging this out if it was?" Chase asked pointedly.

"_Right,_" House conceded.

Chase sighed. "So, what am I: the alcoholic abusive boyfriend, the sleaze from mid-season two, or the dying fiancée in an alternate universe?"

House glanced at the page again. "None of those. Looks like you're the intensivist who happens to be part of my team… and sometimes you even solve cases."

Chase cheered up at the news. "That's better than I get in canon, half the time."

"Okay, looks like we have a case," House explained, getting in character.

"Fun," Cameron added sarcastically.

"Patient is a Mary Sue, non-descript age, obviously good looking because aren't they all, who will somehow affect my relationship with Cameron," House offered, in exposition. "And there's bondage! Oh wait, no, it's _bonding._"

"Cameron or Allison?" she asked, in fear.

"Cameron," he explained after making sure there were not stray uses of her first name, hiding in the pages.

"And what's wrong with Mary Sue?" Foreman inquired.

"You do know her name is not really Mary Sue, right?" House asked.

"Do we care what her real name is?" Foreman replied.

"Good point, plus if we find out her last name, she might end up being a long lost relative," House conceded with a shudder, before continuing to read the initial scene. "Okay, we're in the hospital, around the conference room table."

The darkness around them dissipated to reveal their department's office. Cameron got up and headed to the coffee machine, since this _was _season two, and this _was _a House/Cameron fanfic.

House picked up his favorite marker and began reading off the pages. "Mary Sue's symptoms are…"

"Does it matter what they are?" Cameron asked as she handed House some coffee in a red shiny mug. "I mean, it's not like it ever really matters. As soon as we give in to each other, the poor patient is kicked to the curb like a worthless piece of junk."

"Not to mention the lack of research that goes into these stories," Chase pointed out. "We're supposed to be doctors, for heaven's sake!"

"It'll just be like the show; you'll give us random symptoms, we'll suggest it's lupus, then paraneoplastic syndrome, and the patient will almost die from our misdiagnoses."

"And it'll turn out to be a yeast infection in her spleen, or something else stupid," Chase added.

"Exactly, so can we fast forward to the important stuff?" Cameron asked, glancing at the clock.

"You're just saying that because you want to have creative sex with me," House pointed out.

Cameron rolled her eyes, but didn't deny it.

A snore interrupted the scene, and they glanced over to the corner to see Wilson sleeping. House threw the whiteboard eraser at the oncologist's head, enjoying the thumping sound it made on contact.

Wilson jumped out of the chair he'd been sitting in, and clutched his head in pain. "Ow! What was that for?"

"You fell asleep during our contrived differential," House explained.

"I was tired! Even though this isn't slash, you're going to need to have a conversation with me sooner or later; I figured I'd take a nap until that time came. Plus if this is a House/Cameron story, then there's a good chance Cuddy will want my seed or something of the kind—I would prefer if she didn't find me in my office."

"Poor Wilson, forced into random relationships with Cuddy," House taunted.

"We have nothing in common except you!" Wilson reminded him.

"Go back to your office. We're going to fast-forward this story, and you might get hurt by the plot device," House replied.

Wilson sighed as he left, and the daylight outside turned to dusk.

"That was an easy one to solve," Foreman commented sarcastically, as he picked up his things and left for the day.

"At least she didn't die just to provoke a touching scene between them," Chase pointed out as he left as well.

"So what do we do now?" Cameron asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We have an honest conversation in my office, and then we go to my apartment," House replied with a smirk.

"I like that ending," Cameron commented as she made her way toward House. "Come on, let's go."

House began to follow her, unassisted.

"Where's your cane?" she asked, concerned.

"Your love has cured me," he explained. "It happens a lot. I don't understand it either, but apparently you are better than vicodin."

Cameron beamed proudly. "Sweet. Maybe I can write an article about how my sheer presence in your life can overcome muscle and nerve degeneration…"

"At least you know that's one article Foreman won't steal," House pointed out. "But I'm still not signing off on it."

"I wouldn't expect you to," she declared as she linked her arm through his.

The two walked off together, out of the hospital and into Smutland, where House never once paid attention to the pain in his thigh, and Cameron was the happiest woman on Earth.

**_the end_**


End file.
